


Sportacus's New Roommate

by rikkiismygender



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - LazyTown, Fluff, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Supportive Sportacus (LazyTown), Transphobia, cavity-causing fluff, finished work, roommate au, sportarobbie, trixie and stephanie are dating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 19:24:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10646439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rikkiismygender/pseuds/rikkiismygender
Summary: I'm sure this has been done before but I REALLY wanted to write about Sporty and Robbie in college together!! ! And the beginning of their ReLaTiOnShIp. This is my first fanfic so please let me know if there are mistakes. Also there is a scene with a very transphobic person so tw.Everyone is the same age in this AUPOV switches between Sport and Robbie





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

There hadn't been a major life change ever that Sport hadn't been incredibly excited about. In fact, he was nearly bouncing now as he stood on the floor of the dorm elevator for the first time. He was a freshman in college, and that meant trying out for sports teams, new friends, and new outdoor adventures. He smoothed back his mop of blonde curls to try and calm himself.   
His luggage stood beside him - a suitcase full of his favorite clothes, a bag of gym equipment and a backpack containing his laptop. Not that he'd ever used it much - he preferred to be outside in the shining sun, doing just about anything active.   
And on top of all the exhilarating things awaiting him at Lazytown's bustling university, he was getting a roommate. He'd tried messaging said roommate on the only social media account he could find of the guy's - a relatively blank Facebook with no profile picture.   
He hadn't gotten a message back, but he still hoped for the best. After all, there hadn't ever been a person that Sport couldn't turn into a friend. People said it was magic, that ability of his, but he just loved anything and anyone.   
He knew this would be no different. He would become best friends with this roommate, they would join intermural teams together and go the gym and go running through Lazytown Park and -   
The elevator dinged, interrupting his thoughts. He sprang out, easily grabbing the three bags and jaunting to his new room, number 117.   
To his surprise, the space under the door looked dark.   
"Hmm, probably better to knock..." Sport said to himself, raising a fist and giving the door three short raps. Nothing. "Maybe he's not here."  
Shrugging, Sport dug a room key from his pocket and opened the door.  
He jumped back in surprise, almost letting go of the door handle. His new roommate stood inches from the door, arm still outstretched to open it.   
"I'm - I'm sorry!" Sport said. "I didn't... Interrupt anything...?"  
The man he was to live with had the sourest expression that Sport had ever seen. He stood in the shadow of the room, black hair sticking in all directions, and heavy bags under his large, grey eyes. He was taller than Sport by about half a foot, but much skinnier. A purple sweater hung on him like a coat hanger. Sport noticed with surprise that he wasn't wearing pants.  
"No," the man said curtly, turning his back.   
Sport entered the room cautiously, not wanting to offend his new roommate further. Apparently, coming into the dorm had been enough to do that.   
"I'm Sport, your new roommate. If you were sleeping, I don't mean to interrupt you!"  
Sport's gaze fell on his roommate's bed. The covers were tousled and - was that an orange fur rug for a duvet cover? He shook his head. The man - 'Robbie,' from his Facebook - simply huffed.   
"I'll just have to find somewhere else, then," Robbie sneered, and to Sport's astonishment he grabbed his pillow and made for the door.   
"Hey," Sport called after him, rushing out of the room and fighting back a laugh. "Don't you want to get dressed, first?"  
Robbie halted ten feet out of the room, looking down at the magenta briefs adorning his lower half. Two other students were walking by, a girl with bright pink hair and a guy with a Superman shirt on. They both held back giggles, and Sport saw Robbie turn bright red when he realized he'd walked out in his underwear.  
With a low grumble, Robbie returned, staring at the ground while pushing past Sport.   
"Why don't you just sleep in here," Sport said, the chipper tone never leaving his voice. "I'll unpack later! There's soccer tryouts at five, and I'll just go look at the gym equipment until then. Have you seen it?"   
He realized that he could probably infer that answer by looking at Robbie's half of the room. A box of microwavable popcorn and an entire chocolate cake were the only food items in sight. Sport felt his heart drop from seeing all that sugar and fat.   
Robbie was settling under his orange duvet, pulling the covers over his face. "No," he said with a dramatic huff, "and even if I had, I wouldn't use it."  
Sport quickly changed into his gym shoes, leaving Robbie in peace.   
As he walked to the gym, he wondered about this person that he would be spending the whole year with. He didn't like to make assumptions, but his optimism dimmed. This would be a tough one to get through to. He wanted to help Robbie, but he worried that it would take him a while to figure out how.   
He entered the gym, his eyes bugging out. It was huge. Surely he would find friends here. His broad chest and muscled arms said that exercise was his passion.   
"Hey!" a voice spoke up. "You can't go in without swiping your student card!"  
Sport turned to the front desk. A girl sat there with three short, dark pigtails extending from her head. She wore a raglan shirt with a big 88 on it.   
"Of course," he exclaimed, rushing toward her. He fought the urge to bounce with excitement. Thoughts of his grumpy roommate were fading with the noise and energy of the university gym.   
"I'm Trixie," the girl said, smacking some gum.   
Sport handed her the card. "Here you go!"   
Trixie swiped the card, her face falling. "Aww, too bad," she said, "looks like it's been deactivated."  
Sport's face fell, his small mustache literally changing shape as the smile disappeared from his face.   
"Just kidding!" Trixie exploded. "Gotcha!"  
Sport huffed a laugh. "You sure did!" he said, pointing at her.   
"Have fun," she said. "If you have any questions, you know who to ask!"  
Sport waved at her, walking into the gym. Trixie seemed nice. His eyes fluttered to the weight rack, the huge track above his head, and the hundreds of machines... "This is great!" he said to no one in particular, jumping as he made for the weights. 

_______

Robbie flung the orange duvet off of his body and onto the floor.   
"What was that?" he scoffed to the dark ceiling. "I don't - auugh."   
He hadn't been able to sleep since 'Sport' (what kind of a name was that, anyway?!) so inconsiderately barged in on his nap. He hadn't been able to sleep last night, and the thought of the same insomnia creeping up on him tonight made him want to cry. Oh, and there was the added frustration of their First Conversation.  
Robbie hadn't exactly planned on what he would say to the new roommate. The dork had actually found his Facebook and messaged him, asking a laundry list of questions. 'What do you like to do?' 'If we can paint our dorm walls, what colors do you like?' 'Do you mind if I bring my motivational posters?'  
"Who does that?" Robbie said quietly, finally sitting up. His stomach growled, and he realized he hadn't eaten in a while, either.   
He knew he'd probably offended the kid, but Sport didn't show it. He had this optimistic aura about him that Robbie couldn't begin to understand.   
Robbie flinched as he remembered Sport calling to him about his state of dress while leaving the dorm. It was bad enough that a few people on his hall saw his sleep-deprived self striding out of the room, but - Sport had seen it, too. He probably looked like an idiot in front of the guy, and it didn't help that Sport was cute.... And that adorable accent...  
No. He did not just think that thought. He wasn't even gay. Well... he'd never had a relationship like that. If you've only thought about guys and have never done anything with them, that means you're not gay... Right?  
He dug a fork into the nice, creamy icing, groaning.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Robbie has an event ahhh i bet he's so excited secretly

Sport jogged down the main campus walkway, enjoying the feeling of the sun on his tanned skin. He always wore clothing he could exercise in, because it gave him an excuse to run everywhere. He never could keep still. Even in class, he was always tapping a foot or drumming his fingers. The only times he felt worn out were after a day of playing sports. He wondered how many teams and intermurals he could legally join.  
As he was jogging, something caught his eye. Sport knew instantly it was Robbie due to the jet-black hair and tall, lanky frame, but he looked much different from the afternoon before. Sport had left early and hadn't seen him since creeping past his bed. His roommate was wearing a snug maroon turtleneck despite the heat, black jeans, and heeled boots. And were those cats-eye sunglasses?  
Sport noticed that his jogging pace had decreased to a walk without him even knowing it.  
"Hey, Robbie," he called, cartwheeling to the bench that Robbie was reclining in.  
His roommate startled, raising two hands in self-defense. Sport chortled, realizing that Robbie had definitely fallen asleep on the bench. "Don't worry, it's just me," he smiled, gently pushing down Robbie's arms.  
"Oh, you," Robbie said, still caught in the half-place between dreams and being awake. Then, his tone became derisive. "What can a guy do to get some peace and quiet around here? Do you always go flipping around, waking people up?"  
"Well," Sport answered, raising a finger knowledgeably, "you could go back to the dorm. I'll be gone until six, and you can get some great rest until then! I'll be as quiet as a mouse." He nodded, his mustache raising in a smile. "I knew you were awake last night. I could see your phone screen." He shook his head in what looked like friendly chastisement. "Lazyflix is good sometimes, but not at 2 in the morning."  
Robbie just stared at him - or, Sport assumed he was, from behind the pitch-black sunglass lenses - and then shook his head slowly. "You can flip away, now," he said, shooing him. "I don't need your help."  
Sport's face fell a bit, but he put his hands on his hips and forced a smile. "I understand," he said. "I hope you can get some sleep!"  
With that, Sport jogged away from the bench, leaving his roommate to (for whatever reason) continue dozing on it. How he could sleep sitting up and in the blistering sun was beyond Sport.  
He wasn't going to let Robbie go that easily, though. He knew exactly what might help.

____

Robbie pushed open the door to the dorm room, gingerly squeezing the sunburn on his neck. How long had he been out there?  
The growing noise of students had finally driven him away from his favorite bench, so here he was, back in the cold dorm room that was now full of his roommate's 'decorations.' If you could call a pop-art poster of a fruit cornucopia a decoration. To Robbie, it just looked gross. And there was the wire baskets of apples and bananas and pears... It was almost too much. Almost. Because he couldn't help but almost like the man.  
Almost.  
Robbie tensed, seeing a bag sitting on his bed. He hadn't put it there, so it must've been Sport. Creeping up to it, he peered inside to see a box of chamomile tea and a bottle that read Melatonin.  
His eyes widened. Had Sport really gone so far out of his way to - care - about him? This was getting out of hand. He had so much to do, and God forbid his own roommate would get him distracted from it.  
Case in point - the design studio downtown was having a contest. All sorts of art was accepted, and Robbie was planning on entering with a dress he had constructed over the summer. It would be a nice thing to try and win. Robbie liked winning - it just never really happened. Maybe this time, it would.  
He snuck the dress out of its drawer, zipping off the protective plastic. It was amazing, he admitted to himself. The gown had three colors, purple, burgundy and navy blue, and was a mix of soft and abrupt styling. He might as well try. Tucking the whole thing into his bag, he started out of the room. He looked back at the bag, though. Someone had actually brought him something. Someone cute.  
He grunted, shaking his head. 

___

Sport bounced into the dorm room, exhilarated from a pick-up soccer game with his new friend Trixie. Trixie actually knew the pink-haired girl in his dorm. They had been 'hanging out' lately, she'd said. When Sport asked if they were dating, Trixie had just laughed and said, "If I get my way, we will be!"  
Robbie was in his usual position on the bed, laptop balanced on his chest. A soft song was coming from it.  
It had been two weeks since they'd moved in together. To Sport's surprise, Robbie hadn't said a word about his present. The tea had been opened though, and the bags were slowly disappearing. Sport tugged off his sweaty soccer jersey and threw it in his laundry basket, his chest and arms still carrying a sheen of sweat from the activity.  
"Hey, Robbie!" Sport chimed. Robbie continued to stare at the screen. "What are you listening to?"  
"IAMX," Robbie mumbled.  
Sport made his way over to Robbie's bed. "What song? Sounds sad."  
Robbie shot him a glare that quickly looked up and down his bare chest. "It's called 'Insomnia,'" he answered.  
"Heh. That reminds, me, I think we need to get you on a sleeping schedule," Sport said. "I don't go to bed at 8:08 every night for nothing!" He sat on the edge of Robbie's bed, watching the man visibly recoil. It didn't faze him, though, and he kept on talking. "How about tonight, we go for a walk? That will get you nice and tired, and then you'll won't have so much energy."  
"A... Walk?" Robbie stuttered. "Well, I... Uh... I can't. I have things to do."  
"Like what?" Sport asked, genuinely interested. He was looking Robbie in the face, now, and he realized that his roommate had some pretty striking features. It was enough for Sport to want to keep the conversation going, although he didn't exactly realize it.  
"It's an awards reception," Robbie said shortly, turning up the music. "I won something."  
"Robbie, that's amazing!" Sport nearly shouted. "What time is it? Where is it?"  
The man frowned at him. "It's not your type of thing. It's not a sports event, and there won't be any flipping or flopping."  
"You're my friend, and I will be there, without a doubt," Sport said, ignoring Robbie's comment. "Is this it?" he asked, reaching with a muscled arm to grab a card from Robbie's desk. "1st place in clothing design - Robbie Rotten. Wow! Look at this!" He flicked the paper. "8:00 PM at Lazytown Art Center."  
Robbie audibly groaned in his throat.  
"What should I wear?" Sport asked. Robbie was looking at him now, wide-eyed. He seemed incredibly nervous and dodgy, and Sport wondered if he just wasn't used to talking to other people. Well, if anything could change that, he could! "What are you wearing?" Sport asked. "I don't want to be underdressed."  
Robbie blushed, turning his head back to the computer screen. "If you insist on coming, just... Well, I'm wearing... just something nice."  
"Ah, I see," Sport said, referring back to the card. "Semi-formal. Now that, I can do! Congratulations, Robbie. I'm so excited that you won."  
"I know," Robbie said with a small smirk, "nothing I do ever works."  
Sport frowned, but let it go. This man needed a friend right now, not a therapist. "I'm going to shower and then to help Ziggy with his homework, but I'll see you at the reception," he said.  
Robbie looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "Whatever," he said.  
Sport smiled, throwing off the rest of his clothes and wrapping a towel around his waist. He grabbed a change of clothes and was out the door.  
After a shower and a text from Ziggy letting him know that there was no need for homework help that day, Sport ventured to Stephanie's dorm room to see what she was up to.  
The pink-clad girl answered the door with tears in her eyes. Sport's eyes clouded over at the sight. "Stephanie," he said as he stepped inside her room, "what's wrong? Are you okay?"  
She plopped down on her pink satin bedspread, her phone clutched in her hand.  
"I just don't know what to do," she said mournfully.  
Sport looked at her seriously, putting a hand on her shoulder. "If you need to talk about it, I'm here. Or we can do something to take it off your mind. I have jump ropes in my..."  
"I'd really like to talk about it," Stephanie said, wiping her eyes. "It's just a sticky situation. I was out with Trixie today, and she asked me if I would date her. But I just don't know."  
"What's keeping you from dating her?" Sport asked, frowning.  
"My parents. I don't know what they would say if they found out I was dating a girl. They always talked about me finding a nice boy, but..." she sniffled again. "I like Trixie."  
Sport put his hands on his knees, taking a deep breath. "Well, you do have to think about your safety. But if you really like her, then you could bring the subject up with your parents and see how they react. Something small, like - two female celebrities dating. Just to see their reaction. You don't have to tell them about you and Trixie to see how they'd react to your relationship."  
Stephanie turned her head sideways like a curious cat. "That's a great idea. I'm going to do that right away." She jumped up to get a bottled water from her minifridge. "Want one?"  
"I'd love one," Sport said. He was trying to calm his tone due to the situation.  
Stephanie handed him the water and began to text something on her phone. "I'm telling my mom about my friends Halla and Solla. They just started dating. At least I can see what she might think about it."  
"There are so many people who have really terrible situations like that," Sport shook his head. "I was lucky, I guess. I knew I was gay from age thirteen, and my parents never cared about my orientation."  
The word came out like orange-in-tation, and Stephanie couldn't help but smile at his accent. "I didn't know you were gay," she said. "Do you have a boyfriend?" Her face shifted into a sly grin. "You have been talking about your roommate a lot lately. Something tells me you might have eyes for him."  
Sport shifted. "I'm trying to get to know him," he said, taking a swig of water.  
"He seems like a tough person to get through to," Stephanie said, checking her phone.  
"I have no idea if he likes me. I don't think I'll ever know unless he says or does something. I haven't even dated anyone like him before. He's so..."  
"Lazy?" Stephanie offered.  
"That's it. Lazy. But not about everything. He gets good grades and he really likes music and fashion. He just seems a little bit depressed sometimes." Sport leaned closer to Stephanie, dropping into a whisper. "He likes to stay up all night, and that can't be good for him. And..." he paused. "I walked in on him crying once. I tried to talk to him, but he just pulled his blanket over himself and wouldn't answer me. I worry about him."  
Stephanie frowned. "So you do like him?"  
"He's so quirky that I can't help but like him a little. And he has great eyes and a great body - " Sport slowed down, which was uncommon for him. He realized that he did like Robbie. Maybe even a lot. But would that be complicated? After all, they were roommates, and very different people.  
Plus, did Sport like him because Sport liked saving people, or did he just like him for - him?  
___

Robbie immediately sat up when Sport left in - just a towel - ...  
There was so much in his mind that he didn't say. He didn't say that he had been listening to that song for days, thinking about how much it reminded him of Sport and how he wished he could speak some of the lyrics out loud to him. He didn't say that it was the hardest thing in the world to not look at his roommates broad, gleaming chest while they were talking. And he didn't say that he was secretly astounded that Sport would want to come to his event that night.  
His thoughts screeched to a halt. Sportacute was coming to the reception and he only had three hours to get ready and be there. He began to fling clothes left and right.  
"Too fancy, too casual, too dull..."  
He finally stumbling upon something he liked. This was college, after all, and he could dress how he wanted without the disappointment of his parents. And if Sport didn't like it, then...  
"Whatever," he said again. It was his mantra lately. He didn't have any friends here, his roommate was an impossibly Godlike figure who would never go for him - but he'd actually won an award. At least he had that.  
He decided to get dressed first, and then touch up his nails and whatever he was going to do with his face. Ideas spun through his head, and he tried to tell himself that he was dressing for his own happiness and not for Sport. But he hadn't felt happiness in a long time. So maybe it was for Sport.  
He tapped the volume button on his computer until he was sure everyone in the hallway could hear, and he set to work.  
"He might not even recognize me," he chortled self-deprecatingly, "in my fabulous disguise."  
___

Sport hadn't seen Robbie at all since they talked about the reception. The dorm room had been empty when he got back - save for about 20 makeup products he didn't know the names of, and the faint smell of a nice, floral scent. He had no idea that Robbie was so into makeup, but it definitely wasn't a surprise. Robbie's side of the closet was a mélange of just about every type of clothing imaginable. Sweaters, jeans, a few dresses, tank tops. The man liked to express himself through clothing. There was nothing boring about that side of the closet.  
Grabbing a blue button-down and a cream suit (the only non-athletic clothes he'd brought with him), Sport ran some product through his sandy hair to give it that extra bounce.  
This was for Robbie, after all. He spritzed some cologne. It was odd how he seemed to think about his roommate more than other people. Which was strange, because he tried to think about all his friends equally. There was Trixie and Stephanie, (who had both texted him thirty minutes ago about their new official relationship status), Ziggy the guy who tried to exercise but always got tired, and Stingy and Pixel, their next-door neighbors who were usually in the lounge playing video games.  
Suddenly, Sport had a thought. His friends might not be able to make it to the reception on such short notice, but they could have an afterparty for Robbie right there in the dorm! It might not be as hard on the guy if they all hung out somewhere familiar.


	3. Chapter Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> robb gets nervous 
> 
> ily robb :( <3

Chapter Three

He might have to decorate a bit, Sport thought. He speedily checked his watch. He had thirty minutes to run to the party supply store. Easy. And after all that had been done, he would go to the reception. He smiled, chuckling to himself.   
And, after a huge, purple CONGRATULATIONS banner had been hung in the room and his friends had been directed to bring lots of healthy snacks (and something less healthy for Robbie), Sport set off to the gallery. It was downtown and only a mile from the school, so he walked.   
The place was bustling. People in nice outfits were everywhere. They were huddled around the various paintings, sculptures and textiles that filled the large room and dark, paneled walls. There was no sign of Robbie. Sport wondered briefly if he'd decided not to show up. He checked his watch. 8:05.   
He saw a flash of pink hair. Stephanie! "Hey, Stephanie!" he called.   
She sprang over with a smile. "I got your text, Sport! I'll head over to help set up in a little bit. I had a friend enter, so I wanted to see their painting before I help the others." She looked around. "Where's Robbie?"   
"I don't know," Sport said, concern all over his face. "The flyer said 8:00."   
Stephanie scanned the room. "Ooh, Sport," she said with a smile. "I think I see him."   
Sport craned his neck to where Stephanie was pointing. Sure enough, Robbie sat in a chair against the wall, playing on his phone. But that outfit. Sport gulped. Robbie was pretty far away to see details, but he wore a long, sleeveless dress with silver sparkles all over it that glittered in the light.   
"Let's go talk to him," Stephanie said excitedly, her eyes sparkling like the dress.   
"I'm -" Sport began to say.   
"I think you're nervous," Stephanie said.   
Sport fidgeted with his coat. "I guess I do feel ... nervous."   
"Like I don't know," Stephanie said. "I just went through this myself." She winked. "Just go talk to him. I'll be right behind you."   
Sport wasn't the kind of guy to shy away from anything, but that dress made him want to run. Or lift weights. Or do something to calm the feeling inside him immediately...  
Soon, he was right next to the oblivious Robbie.   
"Hey, Robbie!" he greeted loudly to be heard over the noise of the room.   
Robbie jumped a foot out of his chair, putting up a hand in defense. It seemed like he recognized the voice after a second, and his hand came down. He looked up at Sport, and Sport's eyes got huge. Robbie had really made an effort. He had done his eyes in dramatic purple, and had some sort of pink gloss on his lips that oh... God....   
"You actually showed up," Robbie said with a surprisingly happy tone in his voice. Then, he slouched, seeming to fall back into his normal grumpy self. "Who's Pink Girl?"  
"I'm Stephanie," Pink Girl said happily, extending a hand. Robbie looked at it like it was covered in ants. "I've heard a lot about you," she said, pointing at Sport. "From him."  
"Oh," Robbie fumbled, standing up. Sport noticed that he was wearing strappy heels that brought his skinny 6'2" frame up to around 6'5". It was stunning.   
"Well, not too much," Sport said with a half-smile. "Just friend talk."   
"So you're - friends?" Robbie asked.   
Sport blushed furiously. "Just friends," he said. "She's dating Trixie, who I'm sure you'll meet tonight."  
"I would be so lucky," Robbie said sarcastically, but he was still looking at Sport.   
Sport fidgeted, then redirected the conversation. "Let's go see your award-winning design, Robbie!"  
Robbie harrumphed and began leading the way to his small place on the exhibition floor. "Uh," he motioned dully. "Here."  
"Wow," Sport said, bouncing on the heels of his dress shoes, "this is fantastic! I can't believe you made it! It looks amazing! It reminds me of blueberries and plums."  
"Yeah," Stephanie said, straightening a strap on her pink sundress. "Awesome!"  
"...Blueberries?" Robbie mumbled in disbelief, crossing his arms.  
"What did you win?" Sport asked.   
"What does it matter?" Robbie spat. Sport's smile faded, and the tall, glamorous man met his eyes. "Um, I mean," he said, "I won $150. And a gift card to..." his face wrinkled up like he'd just sucked on a lemon. "Some smoothie place."   
"You two could go together," Stephanie piped up. "I'm sure there would be something chocolaty there for you, Robbie. And Sport would just be in heaven!"  
"He... he would?" Robbie asked, looking down at Sport. "I mean, I..." He stammered, crossing his arms even tighter. His gaze ran up and down Sport's suit. "I have to go," he said quickly, turning to leave.   
"Robbie!" Sport called, chasing after him, "Let us walk you home."   
Robbie slowed down, but didn't look back at them.   
"Yeah, it's dangerous at night," Stephanie called.  
Robbie stopped walking until they caught up. "Whatever," he said.   
Sport led the way out of the gallery, with Stephanie and Robbie trailing behind.


	4. Chapter Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> something bad happens... but there is c a k e
> 
> and f o r e s h a d o w i n g

Chapter Four 

"Thanks for a great night," Sport said, trying to cheer up the mood. Something had spooked Robbie back there, and Sport wondered if it was the same feeling he was currently wrestling with.   
"This isn't the best part of town," Stephanie said nervously. "Especially for a someone dressed so nice."  
She was right. The place was empty of people, and closed storefronts and jutting telephone lines all seemed to watch them like ghosts.   
Robbie seemed to perk up. "Well, at least we have Sportakook," he said.   
Stephanie nodded, beginning to understand Robbie a bit more. "Us femme fatales have to stick together," she said to Robbie, and she actually saw him smile.   
Voices started abruptly from beside them. "Hey, you!" a male voice called.   
Three guys were standing in the alleyway they were passing, all wearing grey clothes. One of them flicked a lit cigarette in Robbie's direction, and Sport turned to face them. 

___

Robbie hadn't felt so good in years (Stephanie referring to him as a femme fatale had been one of the best feelings on Earth), but now it looked like things were just going to get ugly again. They never stayed good for long. A flying cigarette butt hit his thigh, and he gasped.   
Those goons in the alleyway were just like everyone else, he thought. It never ended.   
"What is you ... your problem?" Robbie heard Sport say, his English slipping from, Robbie guessed, anger. Robbie hadn't seen his face like that before.   
"Nobody needs to see that," one of the men shouted. "Cross-dress in your house, not on the street!"   
One of them started walking toward them, and the other two followed. Robbie knew how bad this could get. He fled to the shadow of a building, crouching down and putting his arms over his head. Peeking out, he saw that the men were still walking toward him. He whimpered, feeling a rough hand clutch his bare arm.   
"Help," he squeaked, preparing for a blow. But none came.  
He looked up, and realized the three goons were staring over at Sport. Robbie's eyes widened. Sport had thrown off his jacket, and was picking up a motorcycle from the curb. How much did that thing weigh?!  
"You guys," Sport breathed, "have real problems. If you fucking touch him again, you go through me." The bike was above his head now, and he was staring darkly at the goons as though daring them, his small mustache twitching. Stephanie was standing behind him, her hands on her hips.   
"What..." Robbie whispered in amazement as the guys backed away from him. "...What??"  
"Go to hell!" Stephanie yelled at the three men. As Sport started walking toward them with the vehicle above his head, they scattered.   
Robbie let out a sigh that sounded more like a whimper. There wasn't going to be any issues with Sport around, that was for sure. He watched the buff man lower the bike back into its spot on the curb - so considerate - and rush toward him.   
"Robbie, I'm so sorry," Sport consoled. Stephanie put a hand on his shoulder.   
"I'm okay," Robbie growled. "I'm always... okay..." He looked up at Sport's concerned face. He was about to say just leave me alone, but something about the blue kangaroo's eyes made him stop.   
"I have your back, too," Stephanie said. "We have to stick together."  
It felt... nice.   
The Pink Girl held out her hand with a smile. Robbie reluctantly let her pull him up, nodding his head.   
"Let's get back to the dorm," Sport said encouragingly. "Don't worry. You're safe with me."   
Robbie turned to him. Sport's eyes were sparkling in the street lamps, and his blonde curls were ruffled from, Robbie guessed, lifting a motorcycle for him... He tried to catch his breath, but he knew he was turning bright red.  
Stephanie grabbed his hand to lead him back to the dorm, and he let her.   
In the moment, this whole 'having friends' thing felt very welcome. It fit. Like the warm, orange duvet in his dorm. Which, by the way, he was really ready to get back to.   
They walked through the door of their dorm room, and to Robbie's utter surprise, there were four other students there. And the decorations! Balloons, CONGRATULATIONS signs and glittery stars hung all over his side of the room. He almost threw up at the sight of all that happiness. And someone - probably Sport - had actually cleaned his side of the room of candy wrappers and coffee mugs....   
"Surprise!" everyone said.   
"Guys," Sport said excitedly, "this is Robbie. He's my roommate."  
Warmth spread across Robbie's face. Did this feel amazing or embarrassing? He had no idea what to do at a party.   
"Awesome!" a short, blonde guy piped up. "Hey, congratulations! And what a great dress! Sporty said you made dresses, and wow, I just wouldn't even know where to start on something like that. That's fantastic..."   
"Congrats," a girl with short pigtails interrupted from the corner. Stephanie wandered over and put her arm around the loud, pigtailed girl, smiling. "I've heard a lot about this guy," Loud Girl said to Stephanie, a wry smile on her face.   
Robbie felt like crawling into a corner and hiding there forever. It was one thing to appear in his favorite dress - in front of Sport's friends - but it was another thing to hang out with them as the center of attention. Or maybe he was just insecure. Probably a mixture of both. Of everything bad.   
"We have a fruit tray, diet soda, and some cheese and crackers," Sport pointed out, "and, for you, a chocolate cake!"  
Robbie's ears perked up. Not only did the other guys seem to be accepting him, but there was C A K E ...   
He realized that an IAMX song was playing in the background - 'You Can be Happy.' Sportacute remembered the bands he liked...?   
Speaking of the devil, the man was staring at him. When Robbie caught his eye, he looked away nervously. "Heh," Sport laughed. "Dig in, guys."  
They did, and Robbie found himself actually having a nice time. He met Stingy and Pixel, their next door neighbors, Trixie the Loud Girl who was just perfect for Stephanie, and Ziggy the fast-talking blonde guy who loved sugary things almost as much as Robbie did.   
And then there was Sport, sitting like a bronze god on the bed next to Robbie.   
"Hey," Stephanie mentioned as an afterthought, "I think you left your jacket downtown."   
Sport straightened, his eyes widening. "Oh, no," he said, "my mom got that for me - I'll be right back!" He jumped up, actually dabbed, and rushed out of the room.   
And then Robbie was left in the room with the others.   
"Hey," Loud Girl said, crunching a carrot. Her big, black boots were propped up on the room's end table, Stephanie resting in the crook of her neck. "Why don't you just tell him?"  
"What?" Robbie sputtered, smoothing his slick, black hair.   
"You like him. We all know."   
"I'm... I can't," Robbie said, flushing. "What business is it of yours, anyway?"  
Loud Girl just laughed, putting up both hands. "None of my business. I just happen to know the truth, straight from the horse's mouth!"  
"Sport is... the horse?" Robbie squeaked.   
"Hey," Pixel interjected. "From what I've heard from Stephanie, you've got yourself a lovesick guy after you. The past couple days, that's all she's heard about."  
"He's right," Stephanie laughed, sipping some orange juice. "I don't think he's that great at admitting it to himself, but Robbie - he likes you. He was totally prepared to fight those assholes."   
That brought questions from the others, and Stephanie told the whole story. Robbie listened, and it was nice to hear it again. He knew it would be on his mind for days.   
Sport burst back into the room, a light sheen of sweat on his forehead from running there and back. "I went as fast as I could," he said, looking at Robbie.   
Robbie looked away as the others talked on, flustered. This felt like suffering. Sport's beautiful voice was driving him crazy. And those muscles... He imagined himself kissing his soft, smiling lips, and it almost brought tears to his eyes. No. He was Robbie, he was distant and chronically upset and hated everything and nobody was going to make him fall in love - -   
A hand gently rested on his shoulder and he shrank away.   
"It's just me," Sport said softly. "Everyone's leaving. It's almost ten."   
Robbie looked up, and he noticed that Sport's eyes looked tired. This was way past his bedtime.   
"Seeya, Rob," Trixie called, her arm slung around Stephanie.   
"Bye, and congratulations again," Ziggy said, grabbing the last piece of Robbie's cake to-go.   
"Thanks for the awesome night," Stephanie smiled, her pink hair disheveled from Trixie's arm.   
Stingy and Pixel both said goodbye, and as they left, Robbie heard Stingy telling Ziggy that it wasn't fair Ziggy got the last piece of cake...  
Then he realized that he was alone with Sport, and he shivered.


	5. Chapter Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> robbie you almost did it   
> i am so sorry

Chapter Five 

"So," Sport said, smiling. The room was quiet except for slow music playing in the background. "I got us something else to celebrate." He had a twinkle in his eye.  
Robbie frowned. Nobody had ever celebrated him like this. And he knew it was all Sport's doing. The others were nice - annoying, but nice - but Sport was the orchestrator.   
He jumped to their shared minifridge, and produced a bottle of champagne.   
Oh, no, Robbie thought. This was exactly what he didn't need. To drink champagne past 10 PM with this... very... cute... loser...  
"Here you go," Sport said, pouring a glass and handing it to Robbie.   
"I thought you didn't drink," Robbie smirked.   
"Special occasion," Sport said, pointing for emphasis. Did the guy ever stop being so positive?   
"Are there any movies you like?" Sport asked, reaching for Robbie's remote.   
Robbie was chugging his glass, feeling too many emotions to want to feel them anymore. Sport had only finished about half of his. "Not really," he said. "I'm more of a TV person."   
"Wow," Sport said. "This stuff is strong!"  
Robbie sneered. "You haven't had alcohol before, have you?"  
"Um, no, actually."  
"Well, drink up," Robbie said, pouring himself another glass.   
Sport found a show about unconventional homes, and they both settled on the bed. Robbie noticed that they were only about a foot apart. He could smell Sport's cologne, and it was maddening. The effects of the alcohol were getting to his head, and he worried that he would grab Sport's face and kiss him right there.   
"Wow," Sport said, halfway through his second glass of champagne. "That house is underground."   
Robbie cracked a smile. That sounded amazing.   
"Hey Robbie," Sport said, looking up at him from his relaxed position. "I -"  
"What?" Robbie asked.   
Sport gave an adorable, drunk laugh. "I just want to say that -" he squeezed a hand over Robbie's long, manicured fingers.   
"What?" Robbie almost shouted. The suspense was too much for him. Sport's touch burned in a beautiful way on his skin.   
"I felt - feel - really woozy, but I mean what I'm saying - I want to kiss you, Robbie, if that's okay with you. Do you want to turn the music back on?"  
Robbie felt goosebumps spread over his skin. "Um, yes... whatever," he stuttered, restarting the playlist. Before he knew it, Sport's mouth was over his, and they were grappling with each other on the orange duvet.   
Robbie moaned as Sport pinned his arms down, kissing him hard. 

___

Sport hadn't meant to initiate any kind of physical thing that night - it seemed too soon. He should've bought Robbie more things, taken him to more events... But now, it seemed like everything was bound to move fast between them. He kissed Robbie's mouth, his neck, the sparkly straps of his dress -   
He found himself growing tired and disoriented, though. It seemed like the room was spinning.   
He hoped he could protect Robbie from the people who would inevitably be cruel and judgmental. It was instinct that made him want to save this beautiful, grumpy insomniac from the world. But now, the world seemed to be fading.  
As he slid a strap off of Robbie's shoulder, he was seeing stars. This alcohol thing was not for him, he decided. His hand felt how turned on Robbie was through the dress, and it made him blush. But soon, his eyes were closing, and he drifted into a deep sleep.   
___

Robbie felt Sport's grip on him loosen, and he frowned as the big man seemed to roll off of him and onto the bed.   
"He fell asleep?" he murmured to himself, face twisting into a half-amused, half-enraged sneer. No more alcohol for Sport - FOREVER.   
He got up, reluctantly pushing his duvet over Sportadork. Disappointment clouded his mind, though. Plus, there was a major problem down below from kissing the man for so long.   
After taking care of that problem and a really hot shower, Robbie decided to try and sleep. He settled down beside Sport, pulling the covers over his head. The alcohol must've gotten to him, because he slipped into sleep more easily than ever before. Or, maybe, it was the warm body beside him that rumbled with a quiet snore.


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sport is cute af and Robbie is just a ball of frustration i love them

Chapter Six

Robbie woke up to the most obnoxious sounds he had ever heard. It sounded like electro-dance. And it was coming from...  
"Why is this..." he groaned, sitting up, "terribly happy music playing on my radio?"   
Sure enough, Sport was doing push-ups in the middle of the room, his iPod plugged into Robbie's speaker.   
And then, all of last night hit him.   
"Hey, Robbie," Sport piped up, switching to one armed push-ups.  
Robbie's posture drooped in embarrassment. Had they actually - no, Sport had fallen asleep. So it wasn't that official. He hadn't even seen Robbie naked yet.   
"Um, hi," Robbie said.   
"How did you sleep?" Sport asked.   
Robbie frowned. He was acting like nothing had even happened. "Fine," Robbie said.   
"Good!" Sport smiled, pausing in the middle of a handstand push-up... "That's a step forward! I think we found how to get you to sleep," he said cheerfully. "TV!"  
Robbie frowned deeply. Did the man not remember?   
"Oh, and Robbie," Sport said with a chuckle, "I'm sorry I fell asleep on your bed. Next time we watch TV, I'll go over to mine."   
This was impossible. Sportadork had forgotten everything after turning on the TV.   
"And I'm sorry I was hugging you when I woke up," Sport said like it was nothing. "I think I like to grab things in my sleep!"  
You sure do, Robbie wanted to say.   
He rolled out of bed with a heavy sigh. The clock said 7:00 AM. Typically, he would be exhausted, but he actually felt rested. And there was still two hours before his first class.   
"I'm off to the gym," Sport said with a smile. "All done warming up. I'll see you later, Robbie!"  
And, with that, the man was out the door.   
"So that's it," Robbie said to himself, picking up a tube of gel. "I guess we're back to square one."   
Yesterday seemed like a dream - a mix of a dream and a nightmare. It was hard hanging out with those kids wearing what he liked to wear, but it was worth it. The others seemed to see him as - just him.   
But he didn't want to see anyone right now.   
Sliding gel-filled palms through his black hair, he shaved while letting the gel dry. Makeup? Nah, not today.   
He ended up filling in his eyebrows, though.   
Thirty minutes later, he had done his whole face. Robbie didn't do this often, but there was a newfound confidence in him.   
He pulled on a purple t-shirt that said 'ask me if I care' and tight jeans, finishing the outfit with his favorite heeled boots.   
Groaning, Robbie shoved the door open and headed to class.   
It was - of all things - exercise science. Robbie hated every kind of exercise, but at least you didn't have to do anything, and the class usually let out early. Then he'd have at least two hours to do absolutely nothing before the next class.   
The walk to class was long, and, for Robbie, a bit awkward. People would glance his way a little more often with the boots and makeup. Confidence wasn't something that came easily to Robbie, but he tried to explain it away.  
"They're jealous," he mumbled. "Who almost got laid with Sport last night? Not them."  
Cringing, he remembered that the man had no idea they'd made out. Or that he'd... grabbed...   
"Robbie!" Stephanie's voice erupted behind him and he jumped.   
"Oh. Hey, Pinkie," he said. The girl really liked pink. She was wearing a pink shirt, pink shorts and pink flats. It mildly bothered Robbie that they were different shades of pink, but he tried to look past it.   
"Are you walking to class? I'll walk with you," she said. "Hey, that was really fun last night! Trix and I had a great time."  
"Oh, Loud Girl," Robbie mumbled. He had been looking forward to making the walk alone.   
"Hah, that's an accurate nickname," Stephanie smiled. "So, how did things go with Sport after we left? He said he had a surprise for you."  
Robbie raised his eyebrows. Did he ever. "Fine," he said.   
"I mean, did anything happen? Sorry, I'm nosy!"  
Robbie looked sideways at her. Was he really about to confess to this bright pink, happy person? "Well," he said hesitantly. "We drank champagne and sort of... kissed."  
Stephanie's eyes lit up. "I knew he liked you," she gushed. "Now, if I were you, I'd take it slow and just get to know each other. It's only been a few weeks."   
"I know," Robbie retorted. "It just happened. He doesn't even remember it."  
"Wow," Stephanie said, looking down. "Well, you did look great last night." She shrugged. "Have fun in class. I'll see you around!"  
She turned a corner. Robbie almost called after her, because he forgot to tell Pinkie one very important thing - do not tell Sport.   
But now it was too late. The pink hair had already disappeared in the flow of other students.   
Sighing miserably, Robbie entered his building. 

___

Sport was beyond excited. Today, he was giving presentations about the fitness center with Trixie. They were presenting to five different classes. Although he didn't work at the gym, Trixie had asked him to help present because 'he was good at the whole enthusiasm thing.'  
He had agreed, of course, so here he was. He'd worn a blue tank top and white shorts, deciding that his hard-earned physique might inspire some of the other students. His thick muscles were anything but God-given - hours and hours of hard work had made him the man he was today. And, he believed that anyone could do the same with some inspiration.   
The professor opened the door and the students filed in.   
To his surprise, he saw Robbie glumly walk in last, slumping in a back desk. Then, Robbie raised his head and saw Sport. He thought he saw his pale, contoured face whiten even more. He wondered why, grinning at Robbie and waving. Robbie crossed his arms, looking like a deer in the headlights.  
Trixie began the presentation, talking loudly about the gym and what it had to offer. Sport took over after about twenty minutes for his segment.   
"There are so many machines at the gym, you will never have to wait your turn..." Sport began, but he found himself unable to look away from Robbie. His roommate was just - so -   
"Yeah, and if we're lucky, we won't have to wait much longer for Sport to keep talking," Trixie said.   
Sport shook his head. He had really lost focus. "Sorry," he said sheepishly. "There are all different types of machines. Machines for arms, for legs, pulldowns, assisted pull-ups..."   
"Not that you'd need assistance with pull-ups," a redheaded girl in the front row said. Sport realized that the girl had been looking at him coyly.   
"And there's even a running track," he continued, brushing off the girl's comment. "If you run fifteen times around it, that's one mile. Really convenient for cold and rainy days!"  
He continued his talk, glancing at Robbie every so often. It was hard to look away, he admitted. He hoped he wasn't blushing in front of the whole class. He wondered what it would be like to really be in a relationship with him. They led pretty different lives, but there was just something about him. As he was talking, he wondered what it would feel like to kiss Robbie.  
And then he remembered.   
Everything.  
"The gym is... Uh..." he stuttered, staring straight at Robbie. "Um..." He looked at Trixie, desperate for some help. His mind had hit a dead end. It wasn't just TV last night, they had made out...   
The redheaded girl in front raised her hand.   
"Yes?" Sport said, grateful for the diversion. "Question!"  
"I love your accent! Where are you from?" the girl asked.   
"Iceland," Sport piped up. "But I've been living here a long time."  
"Do you do personal training?" The girl's tone was a little too goading for Sport's comfort, though. "My friend and I'll be the first to sign up." She motioned beside her at a giggling blonde girl.   
"No," Sport answered truthfully. "But there are many students there who do!"  
The girl raised her hand again. "Are you single?" she asked. Half the class laughed. A few of them mentioned that they had the same question.   
"Um," Sport faltered, looking toward the back of the class. He couldn't tell what Robbie was thinking at all. "That's a hard question." He weighed his options in his mind. "I think - if I'm really lucky, I won't be for long."  
"You got that right," the redhead said, humored.  
Sport glanced at the clock. Only ten minutes left. Robbie looked like he was about to have a heart attack. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all, but Sport had made his choice! Once you make a decision, it's always best to stick with it.   
With new energy, Sport talked some more about proper nutrition being even more important than exercise.  
"And that's how you eat a balanced diet with lots of sportscandy and keep up your energy," he said, grinning. The clock had two minutes left. "Now," he continued, "I have one more thing to say - Robbie," he asked, holding out a hand in Robbie's direction. "Will you go on a walk with me tonight?" He rocked back and forth on his heels. "As a date."  
Robbie looked white as a sheet as all the heads in the class turned to him. The faces of the students mostly looked confused, but some looked flustered. Sport felt bad that he'd put Robbie on the spot, but maybe this would boost his self esteem. Robbie's confidence was usually pretty low.   
"You could literally have anyone," the redhead girl said. "So he's your top pick? Purple eyeshadow and all?"   
Sport frowned deeply. "Yes, he is," he said. "What do you think, Robbie? It won't be too long of a walk, and we could get ice cream."  
Robbie sculpted eyebrows lifted at the mention of ice cream. "Um," he stuttered, "sure. Whatever."  
Sport beamed, fighting the urge to jump up and down. He wanted to do cartwheels, but held back. "Alright, then!" he grinned. "I'll see you tonight, six o'clock sharp."   
They looked at each other, and Robbie's hardened expression seemed to soften, just slightly.   
"Looks like that concludes the presentation," the smiling professor said. "You two have a great time tonight!"  
Sport laughed. It was a funny way to ask someone out. He wondered if Robbie was as excited as he was.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> d a t e n i g h t

Chapter Seven

"What are you doing?" Robbie said, gritting his teeth in frustration. "Now, every time I come to this class, it'll be," and here he switched to a falsetto and grandiose hand motions, "how was your date with Sport? How are you and Sport doing? You know you're not good enough for him!"   
Robbie still felt sick to his stomach. Sick with embarrassment and butterflies... How could those two things even coexist?  
The students and professor had filed out, leaving Robbie, Trixie, and Sport standing in the empty room.   
"Try this," Trixie said, "how about getting over it and having a good time?"  
"I had no idea that you would feel so bad," Sport said, sincere hurt in his sky-blue eyes. "I will never do anything like that again."  
"No," Robbie grumbled, "you can ask me on a date again. It was the other stuff - like doing it publicly -"  
"I'm sorry," Sport said again, hanging his head.   
Robbie frowned. He looked so damned cute in his tank top. How could he be mad at him?   
"I think you'll work it out," Trixie said in her gruff tone.   
"Robbie," Sport said with conviction, "I understand you better now. Never worry about anything like that, ever again."   
Robbie nodded slowly, arms crossed tightly across his chest.   
"You had to go and ruin it for him," Trixie joked.   
"I'll do my best to be better," Sport assured. "It was a big mistake. If you still want to go for a walk, Robbie, I'll see you tonight."   
With that, Sport left a bit sullenly. It was a strange mood for him. Robbie almost felt bad. Almost.   
Realization flooded over Robbie. He was going on a date with that adorable dork. He raised his hands. "I did it," he said, breaking into a toothy smile. "I did it, I did it!" He found himself breaking into a lanky, terrible dance, slowing when he saw Trixie staring at him.   
"Yeah, don't do that tonight," Trixie said. "Or maybe you could. You're almost as awkward as Sport, so maybe it'll charm him!" She laughed, packing up her side of the presentation. "And maybe bring Sport his half of this stuff. You know he's nervous when he's forgetting everything."   
Robbie looked over at the table. Sure enough, a poster, soccer ball (blegh), and an apple were still there.   
"Can't forget the 'sportscandy,'" Robbie sneered. "What kind of a word is that?"   
"Better get used to it," Trixie laughed. "You're dating him."  
Robbie sputtered a series of unrelated syllables. "One date. Tonight. At..." He looked pointedly at his watch, but realized he wasn't wearing one. "Well, sometime tonight."  
"Five," Trixie said, leaving the classroom. "Just kidding. Six."  
Robbie rolled his eyes, straightening his purple shirt. "Six," he repeated.

_____

Sport virtually cartwheeled to his dorm. His very first date while in college! He wasn't counting the TV-and-champagne night, because that wasn't technically a date. He fought back memories of how that alley gang had treated his crush. He knew he was up for the challenge, though. He had always liked being a force for good. But what was Robbie a force for?  
"Chocolate cake," Sport said to himself, entering the dorm at 5:45.   
But Robbie wasn't there.   
"Anyone home?" Sport called.   
There was a muffled noise from the closet. Sport wandered over, smiling, and opened the door.   
Sure enough, Robbie was sitting on the floor among his collection of shoes. To Sport's surprise, there were teary black streaks running down his carved face.   
"Don't - don't look," he said miserably.   
"What's wrong?" Sport said, concern all over his face. He knelt down, putting a strong hand on Robbie's shoulder. He saw that he was wearing a purple and blue sundress with quarter-sleeves.   
"I just..." Robbie faltered, "I put this on, and started doubting myself. I want to wear it, but..."  
Sport nodded, trying to understand what Robbie was feeling. He knew he could never understand completely, but he was sure as hell going to try.   
"Hey," he said, lifting Robbie's chin with one hand. "You look beautiful. And if anyone doesn't think so, it's their problem and not yours." He knew that Robbie might not have opened up like this to anyone before, so he tried to be as gentle as possible. "If you don't want to wear that dress, just save it for a time you do. But I think it looks stunning." He flashed a smile. "I'll be with you our whole walk. And, if you want, I can always call some friends to go with us too for extra support."  
Robbie frowned. "It's our date. You, me, a date. Not you, me, Pinkie, Loud Girl, Sticky, and..."  
Sport burst out in a laugh. "It's Stingy. Okay, I won't call them. Now all you have to do is decide what you want to wear."   
Wiping a tear from his eye, Robbie angled his way out of the closet. "I'll try something else. This can be for when I feel more - confident."  
Sport smiled. "You have a lot of clothes, Robbie."   
He flashed him a still-teary smile. "I know."  
Once Sport had discreetly turned away and let Robbie dress (not that he didn't try and peek, which was met by a loud growl), they stepped outside for their walk. He'd chosen snug, black jeans that made his legs look like toothpicks and a white-and-purple striped shirt he claimed to have made.   
"So what are you going to major in?" Sport asked cheerfully as they walked downhill. It was a mile or so to the ice cream place, and they had some time to talk.   
"This is a date, not an interrogation," Robbie said. Sometimes it sounded like he was literally baring his teeth when he talked, and Sport found it hilarious.   
"My major is exercise science," Sport said. "Then I'm going to grad school for physical therapy. I want to help people get better with exercise all day!"  
"Motivated..." Robbie grumbled. "I'll just do what it takes to get out of here."  
Sport wondered why his roommate seemed so disenchanted with life. There was so much in life to be excited about. He was even excited all day for this date. But to Robbie, it seemed like just another thing that forced him to leave his room.   
"It's okay to have fun, even when you'd rather be doing something else," Sport said, pointing into the air. "Example: I really don't like math. But I've had to find ways to make it fun."  
"Handstands while doing homework?" Robbie said sarcastically.   
"Exactly!" Sport said.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fluffy :) idk whether or not to continue this? if you guys like it then i will write more

Chapter Eight

Robbie was exhausted by the time they got to the ice-cream shop. Walking a whole mile at Sport's 4-mile-an-hour pace was one of the hardest physical things he'd ever done.   
"Chocolate," he gasped at the window of the ice-cream trailer. "Two scoops. No, three."   
"Small vanilla frozen yogurt," Sport piped up, supporting the physically failing Robbie with one arm, "with granola sprinkles."   
"You're..." Robbie sputtered, "so healthy."  
It was true. The sports elf never ate anything remotely bad for him. You could certainly tell by looking at him, though, that he took his diet very seriously.   
"My, Sporty," the ice-cream man said. He was a tanned, older man with gray hair. "And what are we up to today?"  
"They sell bottled water, and I stop here on my runs," Sport explained to a wheezing Robbie. "This is Milford. He runs the trailer with his wife Bessie."  
Robbie nodded. It was all he could manage after all that exercise.   
"This is a special night," Sport said, answering Milford's question. "This is Robbie. He's my date."  
"Lucky guy," a high-pitched female voice said. A bustling, buxom woman appeared next to Milford in the window. "Sport is here just about every day for water. You'll have your hands full keeping up with him!"  
"Who could keep up with this... jumping... blue... elf?" Robbie snarled, coughing.   
Bessie and Milford laughed. "Good luck!" Bessie sang, handing them their treats. "This is on us, tonight. Don't run him too ragged, Sporty!"  
Sporty, Robbie thought to himself, that's kind of cute...   
They sat down on a bench. The weather was warm, in a late-summer-evening kind of way. Robbie looked up at Sport, noticing that his curls were fluffed up from the exercise. He wondered if he'd sweated off his makeup already. At least Sport looked good.   
And he looked really good, Robbie admitted to himself. Sport's muscles twitched as he scraped the granola off of his froyo, and it made Robbie squirm.   
"I think," Sport said with a smile, "that we should have something of a do-over from the other night."   
Robbie's whole body flushed. Were they going to... kiss? He was only a half-scoop into his towering ice-cream cone...   
"Um, what do you mean?" Robbie asked. He knew he was bright red.   
"I know I could have picked a better time to ask you to kiss me. We were both drunk, and I don't think it was right of me. And I'm sorry."  
Robbie almost cracked a smile. Drunk or sober, he wanted to kiss Sport into next week. Only the awkwardness of it being new stood between them. He picked at a red fingernail. "Nothing to be sorry about."   
He wondered what would happen if they went back to the dorm and did something further. He was self-conscious about his body, and he wondered why Sport was even attracted to him. Was it a game? A joke? No, that was more Loud Girl's style. It seemed like Sport really liked Robbie. But Sport was so perfect, and Robbie was mostly just a towering, fashionable stringbean.   
"Can I ask for a kiss?" Sport began.   
Robbie's breathing stopped. Flustered, he nodded slowly, laying his cone down on a napkin.   
"Unless you'd prefer somewhere less open," Sport added.   
Robbie looked around. No students were loitering about, and Milford and Bessie were nowhere to be seen.   
"Here is fine," Robbie managed to say. He looked into Sport's face, mesmerized by his sky-blue eyes and perfect features.   
Then, he felt strong, warm hands on the cold skin of his shoulders, and before he knew what was happening, they were kissing.   
And then he heard a camera shutter.   
Jolting away from Sport, Robbie flung his head around to see Bessie in the window, holding a phone.   
"Sorry," the woman sang, "it was just too cute! I'll send this to you, Sporty!"  
"Why did you - what -" Robbie found himself shouting, but Sport pulled his head toward him.   
"Let's go somewhere else," he laughed. "She's a bit nosy."  
"A bit!" Robbie answered, furious. 

___

Sport could see that certain things upset Robbie much more than others. He hadn't, of course, planning on Bessie taking the picture, but it didn't upset him like it upset Robbie.   
"Don't worry," he said, getting up from the bench, "I'll ask her to delete it."  
Robbie just growled, retrieving his ice cream and stomping along after Sport. It seemed to Sport like Robbie hadn't gotten much social education in his life. Or, maybe, that was just who he was. He didn't want him to be sad and upset all the time, though. He wanted to make him happy.   
"Let's go back to the dorm," he offered.   
To his surprise, Robbie actually flung his ice cream to the side.   
"Hey," Sport said, rushing in front of the still-stomping Robbie. "Everything's okay. She'll delete the picture."  
Robbie muttered something under his breath.   
"What?" Sport asked.   
He cleared his throat. "Every time we kiss, something interrupts it."  
Sport looked down, knowing that he had interrupted it the first time by falling asleep. The side of his mouth lifted in a smile, knowing that there was a way to not be interrupted. It seemed like Robbie enjoyed predictability. Sport was the exact opposite. He didn't mind when things went awry, but it seemed to really bother Robbie.   
"Come on," he said, grabbing Robbie's manicured hand.   
He led his roommate onto a part of his running trail that he knew would be completely unpopulated, especially at dusk. Sport didn't think anyone knew about it but him.   
They walked a quarter-mile on the deserted trail, then stopped in front of a thick wall of foliage. Sport went in first, easily moving branches out of the way. Robbie shoved himself uncomfortably through the twigs and leaves after him.   
They emerged in a glen, a small creek babbling in front of an old park bench. Forest was all around them.   
"I think," Sport said confidently, "that this is more of a Robbie place."   
They sat on the bench, and Sport put a hand on Robbie's knee. Robbie laid his hand on Sport's, and they drew closer together.   
"Robbie," Sport said, "will you retry this kiss with me?"  
He thought he saw Robbie shrink away, but the small smile that danced around his mouth said that the idea was anything but a bad one.   
"Um, sure," he said, moving his hand up Sport's arm until it reached his bicep, then moved up to his face.   
Sport leaned in, pressing his lips onto Robbie's. He held the sides of his head, careful to not ruff the perfectly frozen black hair. It was amazing. He felt Robbie's tongue enter his mouth and his eyes shot open. This was really amazing. He had been in relationships before, but there was just something about this one. He had this tall, cranky person all to himself right now, and it was the best feeling on Earth.


End file.
